


The Hope Hotel (Saimami)

by ySoda (yrxole)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Background Character Death, Background Relationships, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, Detective Amami Rantaro, Detective Saihara Shuichi, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, POV Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi-centric, Saimami, amasai, focussed on the story, saihara and amami are partners, sort of it's 3rd person but mostly surrounding shuichi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23897290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yrxole/pseuds/ySoda
Summary: Detectives Amami and Saihara are to figure out the mystery behind strange murders at the Hope Hotel. A cover that causes some awkward moments and some funding for a stay at the hotel that will be anything but relaxing is all it takes for the partners.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Amami Rantaro, Akamatsu Kaede & Amami Rantaro & Momota Kaito & Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Akamatsu Kaede & Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro & Oma Kokichi, Amami Rantaro & Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	The Hope Hotel (Saimami)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> Okay so, I know no one asked for this but I came up with the idea right after I finished my last oneshot and I wanted to work it out, even if it's too long for one chapter. 
> 
> Warning: some swearing, and there's voilence / death. Our main characters stay alive, don't worry. 
> 
> -I write Ouma with the u since I'm used to that because of fanfiction (oops) but other names are probably spelled the way you'd see them in the english versions of the games.  
> -It might be a little out of character sometimes, definitely because I couldn't find enough about Rantaro. I love his character, but his characteristics may be slightly off since (spoilers) he is out of the game too early for me to tell what he's really like.  
> -English isn't my first language, but I'm really trying. Writing a murder mystery is something I've always been interested in but I know very little about, especially in English, so bare with me please; it's fiction, some things are allowed to be not exactly correct with how it works in real life. 
> 
> I originally planned to make this into 10 chapters, but the chapters were too short for my liking so instead I'm going to do 2 chapters with each like 5 parts if that makes sense? Whatever, if people like this, I will definitely continue the second chapter. Although I might anyway. 
> 
> Constructive critisism is welcome, but please don't be too harsh on me :)

Shuichi Saihara wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened.    
  
One day he had been scrolling through some of his social media, to find that one of his friends had made a website. Kaede Akamatsu had always been very talented at playing piano, and besides the fact that she could play well, she also knew a lot about pianists and componists and other things that have to do with classical music. At the time, Shuichi had this basic job at a local supermarket that paid just enough for him to be able to live in the small apartment he shared with his friend Rantaro. Life was normal, if not a little boring. Thing is, Saihara himself had an unusual interest in crimes and crime solving in particular. He loved reading detective novels, he loved watching detective series, and he knew that one of his family members back in the day had actually been a detective, but his parents didn’t want to elaborate on that story. 

Anyway, he had texted Kaede to tell her that he’d found her website, and that he thought it was pretty cool. As a response, she’d told him: ‘wouldn’t it be cool if you made one of those for your theories?’. Sometimes when she was over, she would ask Shuichi about cold cases he had dug up from wherever he could find them, and usually he would have interesting theories that may be able to solve these cases ready. Saihara had thought it was a joke when she told him that, but still, the idea was tempting. He soon found out there were a lot of these types of blogs already, so it would probably be to no use. If his friend and flatmate Rantaro Amami hadn’t been interested in these crime solvings either, he probably would’ve never started a blog despite the odds anyway. What Shuichi didn’t know as he started this, was that a certain officer Kyoko Kirigiri had been interested in those things and blogs as well, as she found him on the internet. And apparently as soon as she had turned Lieutenant, she reached out to Shuichi and Rantaro; they were smart in a way that Kirigiri was pretty interested in for the office. Seeing neither Shuichi nor Rantaro were feeling up to still going to a police academy this point in life and maybe not even being able to finish it, a certain deal was made. They were able to work with and for the police, but only as far as normal citizens could. Basically, they were allowed to be detectives and have a space to store their research at the office, but they weren’t able to actually take people in; that part is where the actual police officers came in to play. They didn’t mind this; it was after all more fun to solve the mystery anyway. This was around three years ago, and they proved to come in very handy once a mystery was too hard to solve for the real detectives around. From one day to another it almost seemed, he got to live the detective life he, after watching Sherlock as a teen, secretly had always wanted.

Now Shuichi was walking down a street, bags under his eyes as he hadn’t been able to sleep that well the night before. It wasn’t long before a warm object was shoved into his hand, and he quickly looked up, his hat covering some of the sight. He still didn’t miss the green eyes of his friend and now partner glint a little with amusement as he found the detective had been so lost in thought, the action of Rantaro handing him a cup of coffee like usually had actually startled him. Despite this, a smile settled on the boy’s lips. ‘Morning, Rantaro’. It was a little early for them to be out there anyway, and Shuichi was glad he basically had his personal walking coffee supplier of a friend, otherwise he was sure that he would actually fall asleep during the investigation. ‘Morning. Slept well?’. The amused smirk told him what he needed to know. Of course Amami knew. ‘It’s all Kokichi’s fault’, Shuichi grumbled, sipping the hot liquid as he continued walking in a pace that matched Rantaro’s more energetic one.

Kokichi Ouma was a mutual friend of Shuichi and Rantaro, just like Kaede. The four of them had been particularly close during high school, and basically stayed a group of close friends afterwards. Once Kaito Momota had also been a part of that group, but him and Kokichi didn’t get along that well, and it was a shame that this resulted into none of them actually staying in contact with him after they graduated. In any case, Kokichi was known for being a bit of a handful sometimes. This all wasn’t too much of a problem usually. It did become a problem when the boy went to go visit some cousin Celestia or whatever her name was in France, and arrived a little too early at the airport. Shuichi wasn’t sure why these flights were late in the evening anyway, as he guessed not only the sleep schedule of the pilot but also the sleep schedules of all the flight attendants had to be ruined that way. Kokichi had managed to keep Shuichi up all evening, by saying he was scared the plane was going to crash. The detective, being a good friend, spent the whole time he could’ve been peacefully sleeping trying to reassure Ouma that flying was completely safe. He should’ve probably known that the guy was a lot of things, but one of the things that stood out was a liar. Of course, it could be funny at moments to try and figure out what Kokichi was saying was true and which part was false, but it definitely wasn’t funny when he kept you awake till three in the morning simply because he was bored. 

Rantaro didn’t push the subject, having some ideas already, as they entered the hotel that was their destination. A certain crime had found place in one of the rooms of the hotel, and knowing that Saihara and Amami usually were only asked to help investigate if it was too hard or if there was very little evidence that they could deal with, Shuichi guessed that this was no different. The only information that he had been given was the name of the victim and how she’d come to her end. It was a girl in her early twenties, named Chiaki Nanami, and she died after suffering two stab wounds to the chest. The rest, they would have to find out during this visit. 

‘D-detectives’, Mikan Tsumiki, the woman that they’d usually see handling the autopsies, timidly acknowledged their presence as they entered the crime scene. The first thing Shuichi could find was that looking around the room, everything still seemed neat and in place. That meant the girl hadn’t put up a fight, or at least not much of a fight that is. Or the murder didn’t happen here, but seeing a pretty solid amount of blood had stained the carpet underneath the body, that wasn’t very likely. Perhaps she was caught by surprise? Tsumiki saw Rantaro was looking over the body swiftly, and she got Shuichi’s attention by speaking up. ‘U-uhm, there isn’t much to her body… there are s-some bruises on her but these are at least a c-couple days old, so that might not be r-related to the murder’, the girl said, her high voice indicating she was at least a little bit emotional. The first time they had to deal with her during an investigation had been a very strange experience; Shuichi and Rantaro had not been aware that the girl could take literally anything personal and got emotional pretty quickly. Not wanting to make the mistake he did back then, Saihara gave her a soft smile, saying a quick ‘thank you Tsumiki, that’s very helpful’, before she could start crying and apologizing how she wasn’t much of a help. He wasn’t sure what happened to her when she was younger to make her turn out like this, but he felt bad for her. 

They checked the bruises that were mostly on her legs; she could have fallen somehow. Theories already tried to make their way into Shuichi’s mind, as even with this little amount of evidence he couldn’t help that he always tried to think in solutions. ‘The murder weapon?’, Amami asked, inspecting the stab wounds from a little closer. It was most likely a knife of some sort. The stabs were close to each other, and they didn’t look like they were specifically aiming for anything except death, but that was just a speculation. ‘O-oh, there was no murder weapon around’, Mikan informed them. ‘A-and no unusual items either. Only her luggage, that th-the fiance has identified already, and some trash from the hotel’. As she said this, Shuichi looked through the smaller trash bin in the room. Indeed, the only thing that was in there was a small empty carton box that had the logo of the hotel on it, and some plastic that could have been plastic wrappers from anything. It was probably room service related. They would talk to the staff later. ‘A fiance, you say?’, Saihara asked, eyeing the forensic pathologist. She nodded. ‘Y-yes. I believe detective Ishimaru knows wh-where you can find him’, Mikan said in a soft voice. 

The detectives thanked her again for the information, as they left the hotel room. They were contemplating whether to talk to the fiance or to the staff from the hotel first, when they noticed a hotel maid in the hall they were standing. Although she seemed particularly busy, she was immediately willing to stop doing her task for a moment to help the investigation by answering questions. Her name was Kirumi Tojo, and despite looking a little unapproachable, she was pretty friendly and open. ‘Oh, that I do not know’, she answered calmly when questions about Chiaki came up, ‘but maybe Mukuro can help you with that’. As on cue, a somewhat dignified looking woman that couldn’t be a lot older than Shuichi himself made her presence known. She shook their hands, firm and collected. ‘Mukuro Ikusaba’, she introduced herself. Luckily, this Mukuro was just as helpful with wanting to answer their questions, and she seemed to know a bit more about the guests around; apparently she had dealt with the reception for a while, also during Chiaki Nanami’s stay, and her memory was pretty good. From their conversation with Mukuro the detectives learned that Nanami had checked in about a week ago, as she needed a place to stay for supposedly some sort of gaming tournament that would be held close by. More, she couldn’t remember. They thanked Ikusaba and Tojo for their time. 

‘Ah, detectives Amami and Saihara!’, an energetic voice sounded from behind them, and they turned to the source of the sound, being met with the sight of the officer they had been looking for: Kiyotaka Ishimaru. A lot of positive and hero-like stories about the guy always went around back in the station, and actually seeing him, Shuichi didn’t doubt they were true. He seemed like the type to complete whatever mission he was tasked, no matter the difficulty. Even though it was usual by now, Saihara still felt a little flattered to be called a detective. ‘I was told to look for you two! Shall I bring you to see the victim’s fiance?’, he asked, even though the way he formulated the question sounded more like a statement. ‘Please’, Rantaro answered before Shuichi could, noting how the energetic presence of the guy was affecting Saihara; he still struggled with himself from time to time, and this was probably one of those times, when being met with someone like Ishimaru. With a bit difficulty they followed the officer, whose pace of walking was like trying to keep up with a car. 

The fiance was an ordinary looking dude named Hajime Hinata, and he wasn’t alone in the room they found him; a friend of his, Nagito Komaeda, had made it to the hotel as well, and they had both taken place on a couch in the smaller room. ‘So, mr. Hinata’, Shuichi started, ‘we take it that we aren’t the first detectives to ask you some questions?’. The guy nodded as an affirmation, responding that he’d had a sort of interrogation about an hour or two before. The detective supposed that would have been Ishimaru. ‘If it’s not a problem, would you mind answering some of them again?’, Saihara continued, and even though he seemed quite upset, Hajime again nodded. Nagito, who was sitting beside him, squeezed his hand in a comforting manner, something both Rantaro and Shuichi mentally noted. ‘We’d like to know if your fiancee had any enemies, does anyone come to mind that might have had a grudge against her, or any past arguments?’, Amami asked, knowing by now in what structure Shuichi liked to work; important questions first, details and putting two and two together came along the way. ‘N-no, she’, Hajime took a deep breath, calming himself down. Komaeda placed a hand on his knee, again something that Shuichi mentally noted. ‘Chiaki had no enemies that I’m aware of. She works a simple job and she’s an overall sweet person, I can’t think of anyone that would- would want to hurt her like this-’, the guy answered, obviously trying to stay calm and collected. ‘Alright. We heard Nanami came to the hotel for a gaming tournament, is that correct?’, Rantaro continued the questioning. Shuichi always admired him for being able to be respectful towards the people they were interrogating, while being able to keep the questioning going without holding back simply because of compassion once the person in question seemed to get emotional. He knew how to handle this well, and it made Saihara happy to be his partner. ‘Uh, yeah. She and her friends, they’re the gaming type. I know she’s really good at it. They organize tournaments here and there, sometimes even thinking of prices. I don’t mind; it’s her passion. Anyways, a tournament was held at the home of one of her friends that live just down the street from here, Kiibo. I would’ve gone with her to the hotel b-but I couldn’t, because I needed to go to work’, his voice quivered a little more as Hajime came towards the end of his speech. They asked some questions that eventually weren’t as relevant to the murder anymore, except for the address of this  _ Kiibo _ person. According to Komaeda, that seemed to know a lot about the personal life of his friends, the tournament would still be going on so the friends were probably around. Reluctantly from Nagito’s side, they got the phone number of Hinata to be able to contact him if necessary. 

As soon as they got out of the room, Rantaro and Shuichi eyed each other. They thought the same thing: Nagito was suspicious. ‘The motive could have been love’, Saihara speculated, ‘he seemed really close to Hinata’. Rantaro had to agree with him on that one; it had been pretty obvious to him as well that at least something was going on. However, they still wanted to talk to the friends of Chiaki that were present at the gaming tournament. 

They arrived at the address that was given them pretty quickly, as the house had indeed been just down the street. The house itself wasn’t that impressive; Kiibo probably lived alone, as it definitely wasn’t big enough to fit a lot of people. However, there was a lot of noise coming from inside, that they could notice once they stepped on the porch of the house. Shuichi rang the doorbell, hoping that the people that were inside of the house could actually hear it despite the fuss they were making. A younger looking person opened the door, curiosity to what the two men were doing on their porch visible. ‘Does Kiibo live here?’, Shuichi asked, and the individual nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s me. Police again?’, they asked. Their voice was polite and almost soft. They let Rantaro and Shuichi enter, and the detectives followed them to a living room where an interesting group of friends was sitting on the couch and chairs that seemed to have been pulled from the dining table, a tv screen paused as they were probably in the middle of playing a game. Kiibo introduced these friends as Hifumi, a guy with glasses and a deep interest in anime, Chihiro, a feminine looking guy, Kazuichi, a dude with bright dyed pink hair and inhuman sharp teeth, and Ibuki, a girl that seemed to fit straight in some sort of rock band with her style and loudness. They all, just like Hajime, seemed upset with the loss of their friend, even if they dealt with it a little differently. 

The interrogation didn’t take that long; most of the questions the detectives asked were answered, yet they didn’t learn a lot more. Apparently the tournament that day was going to be for money, and knowing Chiaki’s skills, she was probably going to win. She always refused to take the price if it was in her opinion a too easy win, and all the people that were present in the house seemed fond of the girl. From all of the people during the questioning, both Rantaro and Shuichi noticed something being a little off. The boy that went by the name Kazuichi Soda seemed pretty on edge, being a little jumpy whenever they asked him something directly and just overall seeming nervous. During the chatting with the friends, that wasn’t fully serious the whole time since it was still a group of young adults after all, they found he really was the only one that just couldn’t relax and calm down a little. 

It was a habit of Shuichi and Rantaro to, once the interrogation and looking around for clues was done, return to the police station and to the room that was preserved for them. There Shuichi would take out his notebook that he carried with him, and write down every single thing they thought so far. Also all the evidence that was found and all the statements they can remember, whether it was related to the murder or seemed not to be; Saihara knew that sometimes a clue doesn’t fit right without having found others, after all, and he didn’t want to accidentally overlook anything. During the time that Shuichi is taking notes, usually Rantaro helps him think out loud and they go over some theories, as his partner again makes sure to provide coffee the second time of the day. 

‘So far, the Nagito Komaeda guy and Kazuichi Soda are the suspects of my theories’, Shuichi said as he scribbled things down on the paper, sitting comfortably in a chair that the two friends could argue over at times of being less concentrated. Their desk wasn’t large and it didn’t need to be; they were already glad that Kyoko Kirigiri could’ve fixed as much for them. Even if they were a huge benefit to the police, that didn’t mean they could expect everything to work out perfectly. ‘You are thinking of motive, right? Love and money, those are your guesses’, Amami muttered, while having a battle with the old coffee machine in the room to get it to work, as usual, knowing he would probably be victorious in the end. Shuichi got weirdly sentimental over things and didn’t want to let the machine go, no matter how many arguments they would get about it. ‘Yup. But we also need opportunity. We can’t go ask their alibis right away, so we’ll have to figure something out’, Shuichi hummed, deep in thought. The biggest problem in his head was that neither of the guys looked capable of murder, but he had seen before that looks can be deceiving. ‘And how and why did they dispose of the murder weapon’, Shuichi mumbled in himself, biting his lip as he tried to concentrate. He had to think of every possibility, and in that way the easiest questions would have to be made harder. ‘Here you go’, Rantaro handed the detective his needed coffee, being thanked with a joking  _ this is why I love you  _ from Shuichi, as he hummed and thought about his question as well. ‘It means that the weapon does relate to the case. Perhaps fingerprints, or a connection with the knife to the owner’, he answered simply, and Saihara rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, I knew so far’. ‘Then don’t ask’, Amami threw up his arms in defense, luckily managing to make Shuichi chuckle a little. It was strange, but their slight banter could sometimes manage to make them come to conclusions or fix theories they didn’t realise were mistaken before. Amami and Saihara didn’t disagree often, and if they did they did so respectfully, so the partnership had yet to become tiring for the both of them. ‘If the murder was planned, that means it’s the connection with the knife to the owner part, since anyone could manage to find a pair of gloves anywhere’, Shuichi thought out loud, writing down the possibility. 

It didn’t happen often that the detectives would be suddenly, without a warning, disturbed or interrupted in their small office. Most of the officers around knew not to disturb them when they were busy trying to solve cases, after all. So when the door was basically thrown open and they were met with the sight of Kyoko Kirigiri, the two immediately knew something was wrong. And it was, as they quickly found out once she spoke. ‘Lieutenant’, Shuichi noted, a little out of breath as he had just been startled by the woman. She wasn’t phased by this, her serious expression never changing. 

‘There has been another murder at the Hope Hotel’, Lieutenant Kirigiri informed them, leaving no space for an argument as they were ushered to investigate the hotel once more. 

* * *

Very suddenly, the case got far more personal to the detectives. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected once they returned to the hotel, and neither did Rantaro, but they could be sure of one thing; it wasn’t this. Their childhood friend, Kaito Momota, was the second victim. It was quite the shock for Saihara to be met with the sight of someone he once knew so well, but in a crime scene, his once lively and spirited bright eyes now closed to never be opened again. After high school, Shuichi and Rantaro hadn’t stayed in contact with Momota, because of certain differences in their friend group. Now he was gone. It felt unreal. But this also fueled Shuichi to try harder to find the culprit; after all, every murder case needed a culprit, and he was going to find them, no matter the cost. It didn’t matter that the case was personal to him and if that fact might have brought him down. Over the years he had learned that when something seemed hard to do, that didn’t mean it was impossible: he had learned this the hard way and with a lot of pep talks from his partner. 

Mikan Tsumiki again showed them to the body, and told them what she knew. The situation wasn’t as different as with Chiaki’s murder, so there was no doubt in Saihara’s mind that the cases were connected in a way. ‘I suppose this is the cause of death?’, Shuichi asked seemingly calm but on the inside having a hard time keeping his cool, as he nodded towards the bloody spot in Kaito’s neck. ‘Y-yes. A single stab wound to the neck’, Tsumiki affirmed what he had thought out loud. ‘The m-murder weapon isn’t around, but it s-seems the same as with Chiaki Nanami’s murder’, she continued, investigating the stab from closer up. ‘No bruises’, Rantaro noted as he looked at the places Chiaki had been a little wounded before. No signs of struggle, as it seemed. ‘A-actually’, the forensic pathologist timidly reminded the two of her presence in the room, ‘look, near his shoulder’. She turned the body a little, and as she pulled down his shirt somewhat near his shoulder, the boys could see a scratch there, and some bruising. It wasn’t excessive, however. ‘Thank you, Tsumiki’, Saihara politely responded, and took a look around the room. Again, nothing out of place had been found according to her. His luggage had still been in the room, and so had the luggage of his girlfriend. She was still present, and waiting outside in the hall for when she would be asked questions. She’d woken up to the body being in the room, and immediately called the police. 

The girlfriend, whose name was Maki Harukawa, seemed like a reasonable person. Shuichi couldn’t place her however, so he supposed that Momota and Harukawa must have met after they graduated. Kaito had a lot of friends and contacts that Maki showed them pictures and names of, and talked a little about. Most of these people lived far away, and only stayed in contact over the phone, but Momota didn’t mind. He was a bit of a free spirit, and tried to persuade Maki to make travels with him close to where his friends lived, to visit and get to know them. Most of the time, Maki would turn him down and say that they didn’t have the money to be traveling all the time, but when this hotel was suggested by a friend of Momota’s, she caved. It wasn’t expensive and there was enough sightseeing able to be done close by. Even if she talked about the annoying parts of their relationship, Harukawa seemed really fond of the guy, and it made Shuichi wish he’d stayed in contact with him. 

Again, the victim had no enemies or grudges against anyone. He was a perfectly nice guy that lived a normal life, loved by most that surrounded him. 

‘It is something about this hotel’, Maki muttered after a question that again led nowhere, catching the detectives off guard. They had asked her if she’d noticed anything strange in Kaito’s behaviour during their stay here. The girl admitted to having a strange feeling by the hotel, but that was just a gut feeling, with no evidence to substantiate the accusation. ‘Can you explain that thought further?’, Amami questioned, straightening up a little from where he was sitting; now he really was interested. ‘Well, Kaito started having strange night terrors when we started staying here. During the night he would wake me up, completely scared out of his mind, and the only thing I know he gets this scared about is ghost stories. At first he wouldn’t tell me what was going on, but when he did, I felt sorry for him. I thought he got those nightmares because his grandparents actually live near this hotel, and he suggested for me to go meet them sometime. Perhaps he was scared I would make a strange impression’, she said, her voice monotone in a way that made Shuichi understand completely why Kaito may have been a little nervous about letting her meet the most important people in his life (at least, that was what he could remember from the time he’d spend with Momota). 

‘But you aren’t sure anymore?’, Rantaro pressed a little, knowing this story probably had a  _ but _ , otherwise the girl wouldn’t have told it out of nowhere. She nodded once. ‘Yes. Even after the visit had taken place, the nightmares continued. He still woke me up almost every night, scared out of his mind and under the impression that I was dead’, she explained calmly. Saihara was impressed that the girl could stay as calm as she did in the moment. 

Shuichi himself had never actually experienced night tremors or terrible nightmares. He knew Amami had, after something happened to one of his sisters. The guy still wasn’t very open about the event. But even though Saihara didn’t know what the actual experience must have felt like, he did know that it was horrible for a person to go through. Normally Shuichi is the quickly scared and emotional type of the two, but during this time that Rantaro went through those a little too frequently, he often was the one to try and soothe his flatmate once he woke up. It could be one of the reasons that Kaito Momota didn’t show many signs of struggle; he could have been completely caught off guard by the fact that one of the attackers was real. Saihara wasn’t sure what to imagine with things like this, since he didn’t go through it himself, but it was a possibility that Momota had understood after a while the things he saw weren’t actual threats, only to be caught off guard when one person was. The access to his neck kind of supported that theory; it looked like he had been stabbed being hunched over, probably trying to cower away from whatever he had been seeing before. 

They didn’t know a lot about Chiaki’s stay either, since her fiance had not been present during her stay. It could be that she suffered from the same conditions, but it wasn’t very likely. However, it had to connect somehow. So the detectives described the people they have interrogated so far one by one to Maki, hoping she would recognize one of them by description or name. If there was a mutual friend for example, this person could become an immediate suspect, since the coincidence would be too big. The fiance Hinata and his friend Komaeda didn’t ring a bell, which was kind of a bummer since it would’ve been easier to figure out if their first suspect actually knew Kaito. The males soon found out that Nanami and Momota had lived pretty far away from each other, so that the chance of their friends being mutual was pretty low, but Saihara knew it wasn’t zero. He needed someone with a motive and opportunity for the both of them, so he could round up the investigation. But the more people he described, the more he realised that this case was indeed a hard one. Harukawa apologised afterwards, since none of the people seemed even the slightest bit familiar. That included their second suspect, Kazuichi Soda. 

Rantaro and Shuichi thanked her for her time and her information, and took their time to walk through the hall to think. ‘We can’t be sure that they’re in no way related’, Shuichi murmured, biting his lip in a way he would when his mind was running with questions. The whole case just felt a little weird, the more he thought about it, the less sense it made. Supposedly, Maki had woken up to her boyfriend being dead, but Saihara found that hard to believe now he thought about it; wouldn’t someone being killed make enough noise to wake her up? She had said nothing about being a heavy sleeper, and taking a look at her, she didn’t seem like one either. And even if they could simply blame on Kaito’s nightmares that he didn’t struggle during the murder, the scratch on his back shoulder made no sense. All it could point to was that Maki was lying about not knowing anyone related to Chiaki, as she may have known Chiaki herself. Shuichi didn’t exactly want to see her as a suspect, since during the investigation she clearly acknowledged that her story seemed a little suspicious but she never once tried to water things down a little and told what they thought should be the truth since it would be useless for a killer to tell them something that could point in their direction. But there was no other explanation yet, so still, she was going to be one of his theories. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped Shuichi in his tracks. He hadn’t noticed that Rantaro had stopped walking, but his partner knew how the detective could get once he was thinking too much, so took him out of his thoughts in that way. ‘Shuichi’, he started, and something was a little off in his voice. ‘Can we be sure that the murders are connected?’. The male frowned a little at the question, folding his arms over his chest. ‘Well, we can’t be sure, but it would be very coincidental that two people were killed in the same hotel in the span of one week with what seems the same murder weapon’, Saihara answered the question matter-of-factly. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind before that the cases were connected, so he wasn’t sure why Amami doubted this. 

Rantaro stepped back a little, and at first Shuichi was confused to why, but he soon saw the red spot that painted the walls. Well; not exactly; it was very vague, as if someone had tried to clean up after themselves and pretty much failed. Now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been a lot of blood in the room that the body was found in, that should’ve been a big tell it could have happened somewhere else. Perhaps that was why the murder didn’t wake Maki up; it wasn’t actually happening near her. But why would the murderer go out of their way to take the body back to the room Kaito belonged in, while not really making much work of cleaning and covering up where the actual crime happened? This also made their less struggling because of  _ nightmares _ theories seem less real, because why would Kaito be outside of his hotel room during the night? The nightmares suggested he was asleep, so he shouldn’t have been outside of the room at all. 

‘You have been looking for a connection between people’, Rantaro thought out loud, seeming like he was thinking over possible theories as well. ‘But what if the connection aren’t the people, but the hotel?’. ‘Are you suggesting the murders are random?’, Shuichi asked, a little unsure. Could it be true that these people were just killed because of the place they were staying at? ‘I’m not sure’, Rantaro admitted, scratching his neck a little awkwardly. It didn’t happen often that neither of them knew what to think. ‘There could be multiple connections that we haven’t seen just yet’, Shuichi tried, taking his notebook out of his pocket. It would make the case a lot harder if these murders were random, and Saihara wasn’t sure why exactly this hotel would have been targeted. Perhaps it was a joke from the killer, since this hotel was called the Hope Hotel, and in a way he was taking away the hope from people? Shuichi had always been sure that there was motive behind killings however, and whatever it was this time, he would find it. 

‘Maybe we need to investigate this up close’, Amami suddenly proposed the idea, his eyes still fixed on the stain of blood on the wall. It was still a question why none of the other officers had seen this during their investigation, or at least why they didn’t tell Shuichi and Rantaro about it. ‘Up close?’, Shuichi questioned, receiving a look from the other. He knew what it meant. Amami wanted to go undercover in a way. 

So, that’s how they found themselves packing some bags later that day at home, before making their way to the hotel where a room would be awaiting them that was funded by the police station for their investigation. And if Rantaro was as nervous yet thrilled as Shuichi was about the idea of having to spend time there were it could be unsafe for them, he didn’t show it. 

* * *

Shuichi’s eyes roamed over the name of the hotel as they were standing outside of it, waiting to go in. He hadn’t taken the time before to really take it in, but now he did. He could see why people would think of it as a cute little hotel for a vacation or some sort. The design of the logo was simple yet welcoming, even if it was black and white. It stood out against the darker and warmer colour of the brick that was used for the outside, and the windows were big to let enough sunlight shine a natural light into the hall. The building was tall, just like the other buildings around it. The hotel actually seemed kind of out of place, but at the same time, it didn’t. It was a strange sensation, and Saihara could guess the designers of the place were probably pretty proud once their project was done. He knew the hotel wasn’t exactly shabby either, that much he could tell from the two times he’d been inside to investigate. Even though because of his job he hadn’t paid much attention to interior but more to the crime scenes, he couldn’t help but to notice the hotel would have been quite nice if no murders had taken place. So the fact that they maybe were to stay there for a week if they couldn’t figure out what was going on soon enough, wasn’t too bad. If he stopped thinking about the danger they may be getting themselves into, it could almost seem like some sort of trip. As he was looking over at Rantaro who was paying for the spot where they were parked (the dude hated cars as far as Shuichi knew, so it was no surprise that he seemed a little irritated after having to spend almost half a day in one), he didn’t seem like he was scared of the upcoming danger. Saihara didn’t exactly know him as someone who got scared easily in any case.

He took a deep breath, and turned to Amami as soon as he was done fighting with the machine that was taking enough of his money as it was. ‘So, what’s the plan?’, Shuichi asked calmly, since they hadn’t actually talked about how they were going to do this and what exactly his cover was. Rantaro seemed to be more busy with trying not to crash the car as everyone in the traffic was getting on his nerves; Shuichi had secretly found it pretty amusing to see him drive. It was the one time that Rantaro had a hard time keeping his chill, after all. ‘Oh, right’, Rantaro hummed, reaching in his pants pocket. He pulled out a plain looking ring, stuffing the thing in the detective’s hand, who looked at it expectantly. As nothing happened for a minute or so, Shuichi blinked, looking into Amami’s eyes to try and find an explanation. What he got, however, was that his partner was pulling him inside of the hotel by his arm. Just to be sure Shuichi shoved the ring on his ring finger, like he had seen on Rantaro’s, hoping that was the way to go about it.    
  
They went up to the receptionist, who was calmly reading some sort of paper. Her hair was an interesting kind of blue, one that fit her almost porcelain face as if it was her natural color, while definitely dyed. Her expression set into a soft smile as she noticed the two men standing there, and she put the paper aside, focussing on them. Somewhat bitterly Saihara thought about the fact that not that long ago a murder had taken place here, yet here this girl seemed like she had no care in the world, but he realised soon that she probably was instructed to look like she had no worries so the panic wouldn’t rub off on the guests that still had to arrive at the hotel. ‘Good evening, do you have a reservation?’, she asked, her voice a little lower than Shuichi had expected it to be for some reason. He nudged for Rantaro to speak, as he himself wasn’t sure what exactly the plan was. ‘Uh, yes. The Amamis, that’s us’, the guy said, running a hand through his green hair. The girl looked at some sort of list, the smile never leaving her face. Shuichi took this time to peek at her name tag that was sewn into a uniform top that probably all the workers around wore. Her name was Tsumugi Shirogane. 

‘Oh, the newly wed couple, right?’, Shirogane asked a little more cheerful as she looked at the guys from under her glasses. 

Shuichi’s face reddened a little, shielding from Tsumugi as he shot Rantaro a look that hopefully expressed the  _ seriously dude?  _ he was feeling at the moment. A small quirk of his eyebrow told Amami he noticed, and that he should probably just play along for now. So with a calm smile, Saihara hooked his arm into Amami’s, with a ‘that’s us!’. As expected, it caught Rantaro off guard that he was being so forward, and this pleased the detective: now he wasn’t the only one that felt embarrassed. A delighted giggle left the receptionist’s lips, as she still flipped through the pages of some document. ‘Oh, it’s been a while since we had any of those. I must say, I’m very happy for you both! You just look plain perfect for each other’, she chatted happily, which wasn’t unusual for places were not a lot of guests came. ‘Yes. We’re very happy together’, Rantaro agreed with her, and Shuichi noticed how he was holding back a laugh from escaping himself; the arm-hook thing had definitely caught him off guard, and now it was hard for him to stay in the act completely. Luckily the woman didn’t notice this. She only got more gleeful by the response the guy gave her. ‘I bet. I hope you have been enjoying what you’ve seen of the city so far’, she chatted calmly, still flipping through pages, and Shuichi found himself hoping she would just hurry up and get it over with. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy her presence, she was pretty nice after all. But it was kind of awkward having to pretend to be married with basically no warning beforehand. Although the ring could have been a big hint. ‘Yeah, it’s really pretty’, Shuichi muttered, regret clouding his brain as soon as the choice of words left his lips. The blue haired girl looked up at them once again, expectantly, and silently. The detective glanced at Rantaro, hoping his internal pleading would reach him.  _ Please don’t do it, please don’t say it- _ ‘Not as pretty as you,  _ love _ ’, the cursed words left his partner’s lips, in such an awkward way that it made Shuichi snicker quietly. Luckily for the both of them, Tsumugi clasped her hands together over her heart with an awe-struck look on her face. At least their terrible play was appreciated by someone. 

A lot of talking and holding back laughter from the friends after, the woman finally found their page and the room they would be staying in. ‘Sorry it took so long, I just get so plain interested in those romantic love stories’, Shirogane apologised, and just to be polite both Shuichi and Rantaro said it was no problem, while it kind of had been a problem. ‘Here’s the key. Room 23’, she said, even though it was engraved in the key so they were pretty sure they would’ve known even if she hadn’t repeated the number. The first thing that Shuichi noticed, is that this was one key, so they had to share a room. The second thing he noticed is that there was one key hanging behind her for a floor that had just one key, as it seemed. ‘Oh, is this one of those hotels that has a penthouse?’, Shuichi asked, trying to sound like an interested tourist, although in fact he really just wanted to know if any information about that was worth taking into consideration for their investigation. 

The receptionist had before been very open and asking of questions, but as soon as the penthouse came into play, she started being a little more vague in her answers. She didn’t deny the existence, of course, but there wasn’t a lot of information providing going on either, and since Saihara had the whole pretending-to-be-husbands chat to study her behaviour, this wasn’t that usual for what he had figured out. ‘Yes, it’s where the owner stays’. Simple as that, no further information. She even pushed the subject away a little by starting another one. ‘Do you need anyone to guide you to your room? You guys should definitely try out the bar later, it is just plain cozy’, and things like that. Rantaro and Shuichi again politely thanked her for the interest in them as they tried to quickly answer her questions and get on with it, finally being freed from the interrogation that they usually were in charge of themselves. 

The room was on the second floor, not that far from the stairs, which was for some reason a comforting thought to Shuichi. He liked to think that if something were to happen, they had a quick chance to escape. As far as he could tell all the rooms around here had the same size, so they wouldn’t have to feel like their experience was far too different from the victims’ original stay. He found room 23, and unlocked the door with their key fairly easily. ‘Well then’, Shuichi murmured to himself, as he stepped inside.  _ Home sweet home.  _ If their investigation took long, they would have to stay here for a week. That was how long they were checked in for, after all, to be in common with the victims. Perhaps it was a risky move, but it seemed the smartest.. 

The room itself wasn’t that special. It looked exactly like what Kaito’s looked like when Shuichi searched it. There was a bed in the back of the room, with clean light blue sheets that reminded him of what you would expect to see at a beach house. But it fitted the aesthetic of the room pretty well, with the soft wooden floor and wooden bed itself; it almost felt a little vintage. How the light was placed, what fabrics were used, the photograph on a darker wall that was in the same colour scheme as the bed. It was well thought out, and it pleased Shuichi, who liked this eye for detail. His bag ended up next to the side of the bed he would get to claim, as he investigated the place a little further. There was a door to a bathroom, that was completely tiled with a white shining type of tile, Containing a shower, toilet and a sink with a mirror above it. Basically everything they would need. The only thing of another color in there was again blue, a type of soap that must have belonged to the hotel that was placed in the shower. Rantaro closed the door behind them as he entered the hotel room, and he placed his bag on the other side of the bed, silently agreeing with their setup so far. 

Acknowledging his presence, Shuichi folded his arms over his chest as he stared the other down. ‘You didn’t tell me we’re married’, the detective spoke. Rantaro knew that Saihara didn’t enjoy being surprised like this; he was the one that wanted everything planned and thought out well beforehand. Usually Amami was with him on that one, but for some reason, he couldn’t find the strength to explain to Shuichi before that this was their plan. ‘Oh, you forgot?’, he tried to joke, a nervous smile playing on his lips. Luckily, Shuichi took the bait. ‘Very funny’, he huffed sarcastically, flopping down on the bed and taking out the notebook again. The green haired male felt no need to inform the bluenette that the married-part had been Kirigiri’s idea. Shuichi could think whatever he wanted to think. 

Luckily for him, Saihara wasn’t irritated for that long, and soon got back to business. ‘Maybe there are other connections we just haven’t thought of yet’, he thought out loud, biting his lip as he circled some names with a pen. ‘Perhaps we should ask Hinata if he knows Momota? I’ll go over all our possible theories’. ‘Sure, good luck with that’, Amami chuckled softly, turning. ‘I’ll be in the bathroom’. Shuichi only hummed to acknowledge he said anything, but didn’t try to verbally respond. 

Soon enough, the detective’s stomach was complaining of the fact he didn’t take time to eat lunch today, and now was time for dinner. Room service had to do, Shuichi guessed. As far as he could tell, there weren’t many options for dinner but he couldn’t expect that much from a hotel that asked a minimum price anyway. Besides, he didn’t feel like Amami was going to complain when something simple showed up by their door anyway. He called the supposed number, making a simple choice in food that he knew was probably fine for his partner as well, and tossed his notebook to the side as soon as he came to realize that he wasn’t actually doing anything with it. The clock in the room, that Shuichi hadn’t noticed before for some reason, was ticking now in the complete silence except for the small noise of water running in the bathroom, which suggested Rantaro was taking a shower. That wasn’t too bad of a idea now that the detective thought about it; he could use something to relax a bit himself as well. From his bag he retrieved a murder mystery book that had captured his interest as soon as it came into vision in the bookstore. Unraveling the mysteries was truly fascinating, and the writer had every detail planned out as it seemed. It was writing like that, that made it easy for Shuichi to be completely engulfed in the book. All background noises were fading, the clock ticking no longer apparent and only providing a vaguely soft background hum that somehow brought Saihara a peaceful feeling. 

A knocking on the door interrupted Shuichi’s calm moment for himself, as instinctively his gaze fell to where the noise was coming from. He jumped in his spot as he saw Rantaro was already in the room, and the guy chuckled softly at his response; Saihara had been so engulfed in the book he didn’t notice when Amami had gotten back into the room. His hair was damp from the shower, and he was wearing rather cute pajamas (although Shuichi was used to them by now since they were flatmates), so he guessed it would only be fair if he himself would answer the door. The detective got up from his seat, still a little cranky from Amami’s sudden appearance that quite honestly had scared the shit out of him, and he shuffled to the door to open it. Standing outside was a girl again with blue hair, and for a moment he almost thought that it was the receptionist that happily greeted them at the door with a ‘room service!’, but her face was different. The name tag read ‘Sayaka Maizono’. Shuichi thanked her, taking the small tray that was carrying their food, and closed the door behind himself as he placed the food on a small table that also stood in the room. The pair sat at the table, both having a portion of food, and a small conversation that didn’t really go anywhere.

Shuichi ignored Rantaro’s judging glance as he grabbed the steaming cup of coffee he had ordered himself, pulling it closer. ‘You never fail to amaze me with at what time of the day you’re able to stand that liquid’, Amami smiled a little, showing that he didn’t actually mind whatsoever. Still, the detective scoffed softly.  _ How dare he underestimate his coffee addiction.  _ Interested by what was left on the tray, Shuichi found sugar packets that had the design of the hotel symbol on it: the packets were black and white, with pink edges for some reason. ‘How cute’, the green haired male said, a brow quirked in amusement. As a response, Shuichi dumped both packets that were given him in the coffee, like a sort of protest, before sipping the now bittersweet liquid. ‘How was your shower?’, he asked, changing the subject so that he wouldn’t feel like Amami was secretly mocking him anymore. The boy in question shrugged. ‘Fine, I suppose. The soap here does kind of suck, but I guess I’ll just stick to using my own’. More conversation was made, and it almost felt like another day for them being flatmates. 

What was different now than from normal days as friends and flatmates, was that the room only contained one shared bed for the two, and Saihara mentally cursed the fact that Rantaro had them pretend to be married. Stupid cover. It only resulted in the two arguing about Shuichi having to keep his cold feet to himself during the night, while the bluenette, a little egged on by the ingestion of sugar right before bed, proceeded to kick the other multiple times. Needless to say, it was going to be a long night. After the pointless arguments died down, the two managed to fall asleep eventually. 

* * *

Shuichi woke up to complete darkness, shooting up in his bed in cold sweat. He couldn’t remember what exactly he had dreamt of, but judging by his state, it was probably some nightmare. It took his eyes a while to adjust to the darkness, and briefly he wondered why it was still so dark in there even though the guy was positive they hadn’t closed the curtains before they fell asleep. As he looked next to him, he saw Rantaro was still asleep, his back facing the sluggish detective. He contemplated whether or not to wake the guy so they could have a joined breakfast together, but his eyes finally adjusted to the dark enough to be able to make out that the clock on the wall read  _ 2 _ . Which meant it was two am. Now the darkness made sense. 

However, he was surprised to find out that the room wasn’t completely plunged in the dark of the night, as a small ray of light that came from the hall managed to sneak in. The door wasn’t fully closed. The detective frowned a little, sitting up. He was pretty sure that he had closed the door after he thanked Maizono for the dinnerplate she brought, and they didn’t open it again. But perhaps Amami went somewhere during the time that Saihara was asleep, and with a dazed mind because of tiredness simply forgot to close the door. Somewhat happy that none of their belongings seemed to be stolen, Shuichi forced himself to get out of bed. He wouldn’t be able to sleep in a hotel full of strangers with the door being opened, after all.    
  
On his tippy toes not to wake the sleeping male in the room, Shuichi made his way to the door, and placed his hand over the doorknob. He, however, didn’t close it. From the corner of his eye, he saw something move in the hall, and it stopped him dead in his tracks. The guy thought about it for a while. His detective instincts were yelling at him to go outside and investigate, even if it was only to put his mind at ease. He himself wasn’t so sure what was the better idea: stay inside or follow his gut? This could relate to their murder cases after all, and if that was the case, he would want to find out for himself what was really going on. But at the same time, if it related to the murder case, this meant there could very well be an armed individual outside of his door standing in the hall and waiting for him to come out, which was maybe how they got Momota. Saihara himself wasn’t armed with more than a wristwatch that he snatched from his nightstand, so he wouldn’t stand a chance. He opted for staying inside, but his curiosity did get the best of him; he kept the door open a little, watching through the gap to see if the person outside would come past again. He couldn’t have even guessed what he was to see next. 

The first thing he noticed was the blond hair moving, as the figure did. They seemed to be coming closer to the door, and even though Shuichi was scared, he felt like he was in some sort of trance and he couldn’t close the door. Because he recognized that figure. He recognized that hair. And, lit by the lights in the hall, he recognized those clothes. He recognized the way she walked, and even as she came close enough, the big eyes staring into his own. This was Kaede Akamatsu, his friend for as long as he could remember, since before high school their parents had been friends as well, and the two had stayed in contact. But that was impossible, since she wasn’t supposed to be here. There was  _ no reason _ for her to be here. He recognized that face. But he didn’t recognize those wounds littering it, and shocked, he took a step back.    
  
Too soon the figure stepped away as well, the figure that was Kaede, and Shuichi was having a hard time trying to find his voice. A bit of nerve overcame him though, and he opened the door. If his friend was hurt, no matter why, he would have to help her. For some reason he hoped that once he stepped outside the hotel room he would find out that his sleepiness had played tricks on his mind, and Kaede would be completely fine, but she was even worse now that Saihara had a good look at her. Her knee socks were soaked, clinging to quivering legs, and her pink vest was stained with a red. A gasp struggled to get out of Shuichi’s throat. 

Then, he noticed she was trying to say something, but his mind couldn’t comprehend what was being said to him: her lips were moving, but he could make no sense of it. With a hoarse voice, one that was hard to push out of his throat, he spoke himself. ‘W-wait, Kaede, what’s going on?’. No response, or at least not one he could understand, and his head felt like it was pounding. As he stepped forward, hoping that his mind would get a little clearer as he moved and that he would be able to know how to help Akamatsu, the girl turned on her heels and started moving away from him swiftly. Every step her feet made forward, the carpet that was lain out in the hall was getting stained, and a shiver ran down Shuichi’s spine. He could feel a panic rise in himself, but he didn’t answer it. He rushed to follow her. ‘Kaede, wait!’. 

The harder Saihara forced his tired and half numb legs to move, the faster Kaede was running herself. He follows the pianist through the somewhat recognizable halls of the hotel. However, this time, it felt far different than from when Saihara first entered with Rantaro: the hotel felt cold, and unwelcoming, in contrast to the welcoming warm stone he was met with when they just arrived. 

Shuichi tripped as he ran after her down a flight of stairs, only just in time managing to shove his hands forward to catch him so he wouldn’t fall on his face. His knees would definitely be bruised, and his hands felt a little like they were burning. With a pained expression he got up, rubbing his hands palms together and winced as it hurt. ‘...Kaede?’. There was no sight of here anywhere, and he was almost scared she left the building completely without him being able to help her. A sudden sound around the corner caught his attention however, and he told himself that was probably Kaede, so he followed the sound. 

The hall was lit more dimly than the other halls he’d ran through so far, and even though he didn’t actually see Akamatsu, determinedly he followed where he’d first heard the sound. Something about the hall was very off, and Shuichi couldn’t put his finger on it, until he stopped in front of an opened door. That was probably it. He glanced at the number, and a pathetic whine left his lips at the sight of a  _ 13 _ . Of course it had to be thirteen, as if he didn’t have enough disfortune already. Still, the detective manned up and stepped through the door, calling for his friend once more, determined to help her treat her wounds. 

He found a lightswitch near the door and turned it, hoping to see Akamatsu. Instead, he was met with a very messy room, as if someone had been fighting in it, and a person that he’d never seen before in his live. They were sitting on their bed, back against the wall, and because their eyes were opened, Shuichi at first thought they were alive, but pretty soon he realised the red haired guy wasn’t moving at all, and he considered the worst possible meaning behind that. Slowly, he made his way to the bed, seeing a wallet was tossed there, like it wanted him to find it. As Saihara reached out to the wallet, the guy didn’t move at all, and he gulped scaredly as he grabbed the small leather purse. Looking through it, there was a driving's license with the picture of the guy he was looking at, but less pale. ‘ _ Leon Kuwata _ ’, Shuichi muttered the name that was written on there, eyeing over the dude. This was his job after all, so was he going to have to inspect another murder case? Surely not at two am in the morning…

The room was indeed a mess, and for a moment Shuichi was scared that someone might be hiding somewhere in the room where he wouldn’t be able to see them. His eyes met the pale guy in front of him, and again a shiver ran down his spine. For some reason, Saihara found himself thinking that this couldn’t have happened recently. His eyes felt like they were completely empty, and the cause of death was a mystery for Shuichi to see. As he stepped closer to the corpse, the detective yelped as he thought he saw his chest move. Surely, that would have been impossible, but at the moment the guy didn’t deem a lot impossible, and he realised he needed to get help. He couldn’t do this alone, at night, while he was scared and tired and wanted to stay in bed with Rantaro that would watch over him as usual when Shuichi admitted to being particularly scared in the evening.  _ Rantaro,  _ Shuichi thought, his heart racing as he felt like he was being watched in here,  _ he can make decisions, he can do this, I need to wake him _ . So impulsively, Shuichi bolted out of the room, his destination mentally set back to his own room. 

Once he returned to the dimly lit hall, however, someone was calling his name, and Saihara’s head snapped towards the direction that it came from. The voice was muffled and Shuichi could faintly recognize it, but it sounded pained and like someone needed his help. Even though it clearly wasn’t, he thought that maybe Kaede was calling for him, so he followed the voice anyway. 

In front of a glass door here stopped, seeing a smaller boy look up at him with fear in his normally mischievous purple eyes. Purple hair framed his face, but it wasn’t up in wild directions like Shuichi was used from the boy, instead it was down as if it were wetted in some way. And yes, the guy was a liar, a trickster, someone that liked to mess with his friends for no particular reason at all, but those tears could not be fake. That look of terror couldn’t be fake, and his smaller hands smashing against the glass door definitely forming bruises, that couldn’t be a lie. ‘O-Ouma?’, Shuichi sputtered. First Kaede, now Kokichi… he was sure he had never been this frustrated in his life before. He grabbed onto the doorknob. The door didn’t open. Didn’t even budge. 

A strangled sound left the purple haired guy’s lips, and Shuichi stopped pulling on the door for a moment to see what was going on. He hadn’t fully taken in his friend’s appearance as he got to the door, set on freeing him from whatever was going on, but he again struggled out a gasp. He hadn’t seen the red liquid trickling down the male’s throat, as something like a wire seemed to be strapped around it, cutting into the flesh and cutting off his way of breathing. ‘Shit- hold on, Kokichi, I’ll get you out of there!’, Shuichi called for him, hoping the boy could hear him through the glass door. Ouma banged his hands against the glass desperately, as Shuichi tugged on the doorknob more harshly and even tried to kick the door open, to no avail. Frustrated tears filled his eyes, but he bit them back, eyes on the poor guy he was trying to safe from a death by strangulation. He realised soon enough, that he couldn’t do anything. He was forced to see the life drain from Kokichi’s body as a fearful expression that didn’t suit his features at all stayed as if graved into his face. Shuichi’s failed attempts at opening the door weakened, and he could only watch the guy see him give up. It was horrible, a horrible feeling and a horrible sight. Ouma himself stopped slamming onto the door, and stepped back, suddenly disappearing in the room. ‘Wait- hold on, where are you going?!’, Shuichi called after him, tears spilling. He couldn’t help Kokichi, and he couldn’t help Kaede. He needed to find Rantaro, and quick. 

Shuichi rushed back through the halls to hotel room number 23 where his partner and he were staying, the feeling of being watched and the feeling of failing to help his friends weighing and slowing him down. He threw open the door, rushing to Amami’s side, and shook him anything but gently. The guy stirred in his sleep, before tired and worried eyes met Shuichi’s. ‘Shuu, what’s wrong?’, Rantaro asked a little groggily, just being awoken by his friend. The detective didn’t realise this before, but his breathing was very uneven and he looked kind of a mess at the moment with red eyes and shaking hands. He tried to explain himself, but only rambled a little as he shook. More alarmed, Amami sat up, and helped Shuichi sit down on the bed as he took his hands in his warmer ones. ‘Hey, calm down, breathe with me’, his friend said softly, his deeper voice calming in a way Saihara could always count on. He let Rantaro help him steady his breathing, before he spoke up. 

He explained what happened once he’d woken up this early in the morning, and even though he knew he must have sounded like a mad man, Amami listened to him and helped him calm down whenever he was getting too worked up. ‘Hey, Ouma is in another country and Kaede is at home, they’re fine Shuu, you don’t have to be scared, it was just a nightmare, you were just dreaming’, Amami muttered to him softly, as Saihara gripped onto him in an embrace. He was glad he could have this close of a friendship with someone, where he didn’t have to feel alone at any moment. He trusted Rantaro, with his life perhaps, but still he couldn’t shake the feeling off, so he texted Kaede and Kokichi anyway in their shared group chat of four. In no time the two replied. 

**_Detective Emo:_ ** _ are you guys ok?  
_ _  
_ **_I play the piano:_ ** _ yeah, what’s up? Why are you up so late? Did something happen?  
_ _  
_ **_PantaPredator:_ ** _ nope lmao my plane crashed  _ _  
_ **_PantaPredator:_ ** _ Im fuckin dead m8  
_ **_PantaPredator:_ ** _ and I murdered @ _ avocadon’t   
**_PantaPredator:_ ** _ you worried about us shushu? nishsishish _ _  
_ **_  
I play the piano:_ ** _ leave him alone kokichi, something serious could be going on _ _  
_ _  
_ His nerves at least a little calmed, and he turned his phone off as he placed it on the night desk next to him. ‘It felt so real’, Shuichi mumbled, still shivering, and Rantaro gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘It happens sometimes. Do you think you can try to sleep some more?’, he asked carefully, and Saihara nodded in response. 

Shuichi didn’t remember falling back asleep, but he woke up with a warm arm being secured around his waist, and he felt somewhat at ease as he could feel the steady heartbeat of Rantaro against his back. 

Still, he couldn’t shake off the fact that what had happened during the night completely freaked him out, so he carefully pried Amami’s arm off himself, as he slid out of bed and changed back into his normal clothes, before getting up and walking through the halls that he could remember walking through the night before. To his surprise, the hotel seemed somewhat empty still for this time in the morning, but it wasn’t  _ that _ surprising considering the fact that two people were murdered in a hotel probably isn’t a boost for its reputation. During the morning the place at least felt a lot warmer and inviting than he could remember from running down here in the dark. The interior was really stunning. 

Room number 13 wasn’t even open; strangely enough, it was the only room that was being renovated, so he couldn’t get in to. At least, that was what Kirumi Tojo told him: he saw the maid again in this spot, and she greeted him calmly and upbeat for the morning. ‘Ah, miss Tojo’, Shuichi hesitated, as he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to ask her things seeing she knew his actual identity. However, the maid didn’t seem like she was going to hold it against him or tell on him. ‘Just Tojo is fine’, her voice was calm and polite, forcing Shuichi into smiling a bit. ‘Right, sorry. Uh, I was just wondering… do you happen to know where that glass door leads to?’, he asked, nodding towards the door. The horrifying image of his friend being trapped behind it flashed through his brain, and he shook his head as if to get rid of the thought. If Kirumi had thought that was suspicious, she didn’t say anything. ‘It leads to the laundry room. We keep it locked at night, since we don’t suppose anyone would need to use it during that time period’. 

Saihara didn’t ask, but thanked her for the extra information, deep in thought as he returned to the room Rantaro and he were staying in. 

* * *

Fast forward a day, and yet the same thing happened. Shuichi again woke up in the midst of the night, cold yet somewhat sweaty, to his door being open. He saw Kaede in the hall, and followed her out. Her wounds were worse than before, and as she opened her lips to speak, the crimson red liquid that despite having to represent blood reminded Saihara more of a dark red wine he knew his father enjoyed, trickling down her chin. Her eyes were just as lifeless as the eyes of Leon Kuwata had seemed when he found him in room 13 during his first night. He followed her up a flight of stairs this time, and without falling. In the hall upstairs he had seen a girl slumped against the wall, in the same state that Leon had been. Her hair was a bright red, and she seemed pretty young. Some sort of witch hat on her head suggested she was probably a bit of a nerd herself, and Saihara could relate to that. He felt horrible knowing someone as young as her could have died, and again he woke Rantaro up, forcing him to at least go with to see if it was real. Once they returned to the place Shuichi had seen the girl, the hall was empty. There was no one there. But it really did feel way too real to be a dream, and even if Amami wasn’t sure how to believe him, he listened to him anyway. The next morning was tiring, as he woke up feeling like he hadn’t rested quite enough, and the detective asked his green haired friend if he could please,  _ please _ just ask for an extra coffee with breakfast.    
  
They were sitting at the dining table, Shuichi still in his pajamas with bags starting to form under his eyes, and it was quite the sad sight. He poked a fork into his eggs, sighing quietly as he thought about the nights to come, hoping they wouldn’t be as eventful as this one. He quite loved mystery, don’t get him wrong; but it’s a whole other level if that meant his sleep schedule would get this messed up. ‘At least drink your coffee before it gets cold’, Rantaro said softly, nudging the boy to ingest something the very least. He understood that Saihara was feeling bad. It wasn’t every day that the detective would have to start second guessing his own abilities to think clearly. And it wasn’t like this had ever occurred before for Shuichi. This is the first time his dreams are so vivid even after being explained that it was a nightmare, it just felt like a bunch of hallucinations being awake. But that couldn’t be possible, since Saihara wasn’t suffering from anything that could cause these hallucinations. He did, however, never wake up in his own bed after these night adventures. So what if the things happening to him were done on purpose by someone else? Hearing about Momota’s story, it could be true. Would that really be possible? 

Shuichi’s hands cupped around the cup that held his dear liquid, as he took one of the sugar packets from the plate. Suddenly, he stopped. The black and white design with pink edges was looking at him tauntingly, and the boy could feel his breath hitch in his throat.  _ What had been different here than anywhere else?  _ and  _ what did he take every time these hallucinations occurred?.  _ The detective eyed Rantaro, hoping he could see the panic in his gaze, and luckily he did. ‘What’s wrong?’. ‘I think it’s the sugar’, Shuichi croaked, blinking as he was taking in the information he just thought of, and it did make a bit of sense. Rantaro didn’t drink the coffee here after all, so he wouldn’t need sugar in it, and he didn’t suffer from these  _ dreams.  _

To his surprise, Amami wasn’t even that reluctant to admit that the theory was plausible. ‘You could be right. But that would mean that the owner of the hotel is behind this’, the guy muttered, thinking about it for himself as well. It was a strange thing to think that someone with such a job would risk as much for murdering some of their customers. Or perhaps there was something else behind it, something they just haven’t figured out yet. It just didn’t all add up quite nicely yet, and that pained Shuichi. ‘Maybe we should investigate the penthouse’, he added to the conversation, nodding to himself afterwards as if to confirm that thought. Perhaps if they found out what the penthouse the receptionist Tsumugi was so vague about was all about, they could figure out some more about what was going on around here. They would have to find a smart way to go about it, though. For one, the penthouse was only accessible with the elevator in the hotel. And he wouldn’t be surprised if there was some key needed to get there, so unless they were going to sneak in, they were going to need a good excuse to meet up with the owner of the hotel. 

Saihara grabbed his phone, and send a text message to their lieutenant Kyoko Kirigiri to inform her of what they’d found out so far. He trusted her pretty much, since she was the one that actually got them in the position they were in with their work, so he didn’t leave out any details. There was a reply in no time with a small formal thanks for the update. 

Then, Shuichi got dressed in his usual clothing as Rantaro was thinking of a good plan, wandering through the room to try and get some inspiration. ‘I believe when you press the button for their floor, it works like a doorbell: they can let you come up if they want to, so we’ll have to come up with a good excuse that’ll make them want to let us in’, Amami spoke, remembering how he’d been in the elevator once before, but then realised he enjoyed taking the stairs more anyway. It was right the day they came her, after all. ‘What if we tell the owner that we have a complaint about a guest?’, Shuichi suggested, thinking with his partner. ‘We could fake a noise complaint’, Amami nodded to himself, leaning his face in his hand. It was soon settled; they would pretend like they’d both woken up twice in a row because of noises from down the hall, and they just wanted to let the owner know since they may not be the only ones to be annoyed by whatever guests were causing this fuss. 

Taking a deep breath, since Shuichi knew he wasn’t that amazing of a liar, but if he could manage to pretend to be Rantaro’s husband he would probably be able to act like this was annoying him for real as well. They stepped into the elevator, and luckily his partner took it upon himself to press the button. As the door closed, they heard a voice as if it came from a speaker. Instead of questioning what was going on, however, a female voice (as far as Shuichi could tell) spoke a cheerful ‘ooooh~! I have guests! Come up!’. The speaker turned off, and they felt the elevator was moving. Rantaro eyed Shuichi a little suspicious and they both felt strange about the fact that they didn’t need to use their made up excuse at all. This was going way easier than they thought it would go. 

One the elevator door opened again, Shuichi couldn’t help his mouth falling open a bit. The room they stepped into felt like one of those very dramatic hollywood movies he would get a glimpse of whenever he skimmed through channels on their television to try and find CSI. It was an extremely large living room, mostly white but with some pink and black objects and tints here and there, and the wall had the same brick as they’d seen before in the hotel. A little further was some sort of bar, and high shelves with different coloured bottles that gave an aesthetically pleasing look, a neon sign above it with the same colour scheme. This was up some steps, as if the room was build in an artistic instead of useful way: the owner definitely had a lot of space. In the middle of the room was a soft pink sofa that could fit at least four people, a glass coffee table and a large tv on another table that matched the color of the wall behind them. Paintings and pictures of a woman were hung across the room, all seeming the same person according to face, although her ways differed. Even the lights were huge and fashionable in a way, lighting up a soft white fur of a carpet near the sofa. There were multiple doors that could lead to whatever rooms the woman would still need, and it should have been no surprise how huge the place was, since she did own the entire highest floor. The ceiling was heigh, yet the room didn’t feel empty as Shuichi guessed it would have if it wasn’t structured this clever. He was truly amazed. 

And in the middle of this room stood a woman that Saihara vaguely recognized from something, but he wasn’t sure what. Perhaps he had seen her face on the television sometime. She carried herself in an almost majestic manner, strutting towards the two males that just entered her home. She wore her hair in two big pigtails, with stylish clips that matched her outfit in a way. Nails long and red, almost a little threatening, as she held out her hand. ‘Hey there!’, her voice was a little dramatic in a way, and it almost felt like Shuichi accidentally stepped into some episode of a teenage drama where this girl would’ve definitely voiced the bully. Luckily, he managed to keep that thought to himself, as he took the hand and shook it. A grin was set on her face. ‘The Amamis, right?’, she asked, twirling her hair with one hand as she finished shaking Rantaro’s hand, and Shuichi instinctively linked his arm with Amami’s again as if that would make it seem more believable. Apparently she knew enough about her guests, which was probably because of being close to the staff that dealt with her guests. ‘Yeah’, he nodded, somewhat shyly in her presence. Her obvious confidence carried Saihara down a little, but that wasn’t anything new for him. ‘Wonderful!’, she clapped in her hands, a grin on her lips again. ‘I was like,  _ so  _ hoping to get to meet some of y’all. I love guests! Do you want drinks?’. Before they could answer, the woman strode to the bar in her room, reaching for a bottle at the shelves. ‘Uh, no thank you, I don’t drink’, Rantaro said a little awkwardly, and Shuichi found himself having a hard time speaking up, but managing. ‘M-me neither, this early’, he stammered, biting his lip afterwards. The owner of the hotel turned to them, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Too bad, more for me then!’. She poured herself a fair glass, and told the males to go sit somewhere, since she didn’t want them to be standing in her room the whole day. She said it in a joking manner, but it still felt like an order, so both Rantaro and Shuichi took a chair. 

‘The name’s Junko Enoshima, by the way’, the girl told them as she sat down on the sofa, kicking off some shoes and letting her legs lay on the couch itself as she sipped on the drink. Her eyes skimmed over the pair, as if to try and read them, and Shuichi held onto Rantaro’s hand that he’d grabbed before, squeezing a little to inform him of the uncomfortable feeling he got from the woman for some reason. She didn’t even ask for their reason of coming up, instead, she started talking about the interior of her hotel and how busy her life was since she opened it. She talked to these men as if they were gossip buddies, and even though Shuichi kind of hated gossip because of high school, he listened to her anyway. 

  
‘So, Amamis’, she chuckled, winking at them with the name which involuntarily made Shuichi blush a little, ‘How is your stay so far? Enjoying the city? Liking the hotel? Been sleeping well?’, she asked them, now no longer being the only chatter in the conversation with an occasional hum as response as if the guys even knew what she was talking about. For a little bit of help Shuichi eyed Rantaro, hoping he could come up with something clever to tell her, and luckily he did. ‘Oh, yeah, the city is wonderful’, he nodded with a small smile on his face, although they haven’t actually taken the time to get anywhere outside of the lane the hotel was in yet. ‘We’ve been in some stores downtown, at least there is a lot to do here’, the guy continued, probably using whatever knowledge he had from flyers for tourist laying around in their hotel room. The woman grinned a toothy grin again, apparently glad with the response. ‘Great! And you?’, her eyes pierced Shuichi’s, and for a moment he felt out of breath. It was like she was staring through his soul, and for some reason, she scared him. ‘A-ah, yes. The city’s.. city is nice. And the hotel as well. The staff is r-really nice’, he nodded, stuttering a little as he gripped onto Rantaro’s hand, hoping he noticed his uneasiness. This could often cause problems during their investigations, so it wasn’t anything new, and Amami knew how to help and handle him. ‘Ah, yes, of course! I picked ‘em out myself, you know’, she said, sitting up and folding her knees together. ‘Just picked ‘em up from the street, one by one!’, she cackled. Even though it was a joke, it still made a chill run down Shuichi’s spine. 

Swallowing whatever words actually wanted to leave his lips, Shuichi eyed Rantaro. Now was probably the perfect time to say at least something, and he really wanted to. A squeeze back from the boy next to him was enough to urge him to speak up. ‘I d-do, however, have trouble sleeping here’, he muttered, and a lined brow of the girl raised, as if that was the most interesting thing she’d ever been told. ‘S-since I arrived here, I just… get constant nightmares’, he continued, looking at her and for now wishing he would’ve put on his cap so he didn’t have to look into those eyes. Honestly, it was hard enough to look into Ouma’s eyes sometimes when he could be as deceiving as he was, but this crossed a line. He felt like she was smarter and more attentive than she let on. 

For a moment Saihara was scared that he upset Enoshima, but she didn’t seem troubled at all, the typical grin again setting on her face as she got up. ‘Oh, no worries! I think I have something around here to get your sleep back okie-dokie’, she chirped somewhat childishly as she marched to another cabinet that had already piqued Shuichi’s interest before. ‘It’s gotta be… somewhere here’, she said, thinking, as she bended and looked through the cabinet, and to be polite, Saihara looked away. ‘Whenever I can’t sleep, I use it as well- ah-ha! there it is! Come to mama’, she giggled cheerily, taking out a light blue box with again the logo of the hotel on it. Flopping back down on the sofa, she basically threw the box at Saihara, who luckily caught it. As he opened and looked inside, he found there was some sort of powder in there. Junko told him to put five spoons of that in a glass of water and drink it before he went to bed, usually it would start helping after a day or two. Even though he felt suspicious of the powder, he thanked her anyway, and closed the box off again, his attention going to the logo on the box. Rantaro noticed as well, it seemed, as he tried to sound like an interested tourist when he asked his question: ‘Oh, are these and the sugar packets made by the hotel?’. 

A smirk that the detective couldn’t entirely place curled her painted lips upward. ‘Oh, definitely. The one who knows all about the makings is a room away, actually’. On that note, she placed her hands around her mouth as she called out. ‘Komaeda hun, can you come in here for a sec?!’. 

The mentioning of that name had Shuichi stand up from his seat quickly, and grab Rantaro by the arm. ‘Oh, that sounds g-great but we really have to go actually’, the bluenette sputtered, dragging Amami back to the elevator before the guy could step into the room. Junko Enoshima didn’t seem phased as she waved them goodbye, a royal grin on her face as if it belonged only there. ‘Come back any time~!’. 

  
‘Komaeda? She meant Nagito Komaeda, right?’, Rantaro asked Shuichi as soon as they were in the safe area that was their hotel room again. ‘The friend of Hinata?’. Shuichi nodded, a troubled look on his face. One of their suspects, Nagito Komaeda, was apparently related to the hotel and to this Junko Enoshima boss that gave off a strange vibe. Besides that, there also was the small box Shuichi was holding in his hands, that he felt like he’d seen somewhere before. The mystery was slowly turning more interesting than he thought it would be. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> So, that was the first half. I'm honestly not sure how popular Shuichi x Rantaro is, so I don't know what to expect, but if you like it enough, I will definitely be motivated to write the second half. All the ideas are there, I just need to write it down properly.


End file.
